LYRIC FOR SALE

By Ward Lane

Got a taste that I desire
Licking my lips to quench the fire
I yearn for the chill slipping down my throat
Awaiting the sensation I want to promote

I take mine shaken, never stirred
It’s the only way, it must be observed
One more gulp and I will be a blur
Seems every night the same occurs

One olive - no doubt
Two olives – that’s for sure
Three olives – balance it out
Chill a glass and we’ll have one more

Gin or vodka
Sweet or dry
Many different variations
I don’t know why

One olive - no doubt
Two olives – that’s for sure
Three olives – balance it out
Chill a glass and we’ll have one more

Classic ingredients, don’t sway from the truth
Pour in some gin and dry vermouth
Only one way to respect its name
All other variations are just a shame

One olive - no doubt
Two olives – that’s for sure
Three olives – balance it out
Chill a glass and we’ll have one more

I take mine shaken, never stirred
It’s the only way, it must be observed
One more gulp and I will be a blur
Seems every night the same occurs